I heard that lovely song just days ago in one of the Christmas programs so prevalent on television lately. It struck a nerve with me - the full impact of its meaning. My thought was - is - that if enough of us took that to heart, there'd be no wars, no fighting, no crime.

To me, war is the primary idiocy of mankind today. War's objective is to destroy, kill and maim. Nations set out to destroy each other, much of it for reasons of greed and mistrust.

The age-old question, used lightly today, is: "Why can't we just get along?"

But it is a very real, legitimate query. Why can't we? Is society so utterly stupid that death and destruction is the only way it finds to settle anything? Throughout history, mankind has been struggling to find ways to make life easier, to find cures for diseases, to preserve life, to discover ways to conserve natural resources. But then nations send out means of blowing up the Earth, to squelch some threatening power.

Of course, realistically, a nation has to protect its people, and the Earth itself, against the greed and tyranny of ugly factions who could hardly care less about life, limb and property. Their morals, as far as caring for posterity, are nil. Case in point, the young leader of North Korea. Doesn't his gall just make you want to vomit. And ... he's still wet behind the ears.

One's first impulse is to "Go get him. The sooner, the better." But isn't that falling into the same frame of mind that he has? What is the answer?

"Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me." How do we spread such a philosophy . or creed . or mindset . or conviction . over all the Earth? Beats me.

Christmas with all its messages of love ... "Love thy neighbor as thyself."; "God is love. He that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God and God in him"; "Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy"; are all from the New Testament of the Christian Bible. They are the crux of Christianity which began with the humble birth of a babe in a stable, a cattle feeding stall.

Christ grew up never to own anything but the clothes on his back. He ministered to rich and poor alike. He wasn't afraid to touch the pitiful outcast lepers. His best friends were calloused-handed fishermen. The meals he served the curious crowd were fish and hardtack bread. But those people were filled.

He died by execution. You know the rest of the story I imagine. We who believe celebrate his resurrection on Easter. Christ remained single. He never married. He was interred in some rich man's cave. But he didn't remain there.

Page 2 of 2 - Christ blessed small children. He converted crooks. He ate with common folk. He traveled on foot. Christ, thought to be an illegitimate child among his own kind, was a carpenter. The Scripture tells us he changed water into wine. Nobody since can do that.

He walked on water. Today it takes skis to accomplish that. The Bible sure tells of some supernatural happenings when he was present. A cripple who had to be carried everywhere he went, walked away.

Christ's life is a very strange story. Born in an unsanitary barn where even the animals were awed into silence, died in disgrace after being betrayed by one of his money-hungry "friends." But he left as his last words, "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do."

Granted, it's a strange story, but somehow it rings true for many of us. Only a pretty ingenious being could dream up such a story, and isn't it a wonder that so many people today still repeat it. It has survived for more than 2,000 years. Folks of many nations have devoted their entire lives spreading this story and striving to perpetuate it. Quaint and haunting songs about it survive the centuries.

I am thankful to every saint who has crossed my path from that first memorable Sunday school teacher to the dozen or so pastors I have known, and to those faithful acquaintances, neighbors and friends who have heeded and helped pass on the words of Christ, "Love one another as I have loved you." Think about it, there would be no war, abuse or crime, if more of us heeded that directive. Remember, it begins with me and you.

Have a joyful Christmas. Its meaning is more than gifts and goodies, and I believe it is meant for us all.

Oh, by the way. Take a look at the window in the top floor of the brick building which stands just east of the railroad tracks on the north side of Stephenson Street. Some good soul has put lighted decorations in that window for every holiday for years. I was just wondering if he is still doing it. I may just have to drive down there and see.

Harriett Gustason is a writer for The Journal-Standard. She can be reached at 815-235-3855 or hg3855@comcast.net.